


Close the Chasm

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne (mentioned) - Freeform, Dick and Bruce Talk, Discussion, Family Bonding, Fatherhood, Gen, He's Sleeping - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, for once it's mostly Bruce talking, no editing we die like robins, sonhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 16:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: “He asked me to chaperone.” Dick adds after a minute, “I told him to ask you.”He looks up from Damian’s face to read Bruce’s. His dad looks sad, a million thoughts hidden behind those eyes. He squeezes Dick’s hand a little tighter, as if that could change either of them saying no.“This isn’t--” Dick goes to say working, but Bruce interrupts him.“I’ve been thinking.”
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 23
Kudos: 195





	Close the Chasm

Dick settles into the bed carefully. There is no reason to upset the sleeping boy, tucked carefully into his father’s side and it is the last thing he wants to do. Not when Damian has at last fallen asleep, any lingering threads of fear toxin not enough to keep him awake, and the exhaustion of a terrible day pulling him into deep slumber. 

Instinct makes Dick want to wrap himself around Damian, but the boy is already curled into Bruce’s large chest. So Dick scoots closer, throwing an arm around Damian and over to find Bruce’s hand. His other arm is left free to ease tangles out of Damian’s dark curls. 

“Hey.” Bruce murmurs, voice a deep rumble that’s all warmth and love for his sons. 

Dick hums, savoring the way Damian’s small chest rises and falls under his arm, and the strength in his dad’s hold. 

“How’s he doing?” he asks. 

“Better. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” Bruce’s eyes have caught Dick’s now, a startling blue so deep Dick wonders how Talia’s ever won out in Damian. 

Sooner. Dick wishes he could have gotten there sooner too. Before Crane interrupted a whole field trip of students and grabbed four, including Damian. Sooner before he’d started dosing each kid with different and new strains of toxin. Sooner before Damian had screamed his throat raw and cut little moons into his arms from his nails digging so deep.

“Me too.” is all Dick says, brushing his fingers through Damian’s hair again. 

The boy sighs, and shifts, turning his face up and out of where it had been buried against Bruce’s chest. The soft light from lamps turned down low illuminates his features. His cheeks have regained some color, even if there’s a long scratch marring the one Dick can see. 

“He asked me to chaperone.” Dick adds after a minute, “I told him to ask you.” 

He looks up from Damian’s face to read Bruce’s. His dad looks sad, a million thoughts hidden behind those eyes. He squeezes Dick’s hand a little tighter, as if that could change either of them saying no. 

“This isn’t--” Dick goes to say _working_ , but Bruce interrupts him. 

“I’ve been thinking.” 

Dick stops, curious. His heart hammers against his chest. He’s a little afraid it might wake Damian. He’s pressed himself up against his boy’s back, and curled around him. Not a lot. Not tight and protective like he wants, but enough to say: he is mine. He is yours, but he is also mine. 

Bruce shifts a little, a foot kicking against one of Dick’s. They’re both wrapped around their boy. This precious child. Like he’s their whole world, and yet hours ago they hadn’t known where he was. They’d lost him. Let him get hurt. Batman and Nightwing. 

Some protectors they are.

“He needs his dad.” Bruce says, and Dick feels like his chest has been struck with a sledgehammer. His heart is no longer racing, instead it has stopped. 

“I know.” Dick says, doing his best to keep bitterness out of his voice. 

Damian had needed his dad a year ago too. Back when Bruce was jumping through the timestream, battling pirates on boats, terrifying the very first residents of Gotham, and literally changing history. Damian had needed his dad then, when he was new and terrified and had no concept of what love could look like beyond a pat on the shoulder and a cold “well done”. 

Dick had stepped in. He had done everything for Damian that Bruce had for him. And then, when Bruce returned, Dick had stepped aside. He’d let Damian have his dad, even if it tore Dick apart to do so. Like pulling his heart from his body. 

He slips his fingers from Damian’s hair, pulls his foot back away from Bruce’s, ready to get up.

“But--” Bruce’s words stop Dick again. 

He almost breathes  _ ‘but?’. I _ nstead he continues to watch his dad. His heart fragile, like the boy between them. 

“He needs you too.”

Bruce is not looking at Dick anymore. He has eyes only for Damian. A thumb brushing against the boy’s forehead. 

Dick’s breath is caught in his throat. He is frozen, as if moving might break this spell weaving its way between them. This secret wish he has held tight since he packed his bags, tucking a small framed painting from Damian atop them. 

“He loves you so much.” Bruce tells him, voice wistful but without a hint of jealousy, “And he misses you, more than he’s willing to let on.”

Now Bruce looks up at Dick again, “You two need each other.” 

“What are you saying?” Dick asks, as if Bruce had not just explained. 

He had not. He had said they needed each other. Admitted Damian’s affection. Said almost everything Dick wanted to hear. But he had not fixed the problem. The canyon between Dick and Bruce. Bruce could say a hundred things about how Damian felt, but if he did not explain how to fix the gap --the question- then what was he even saying?

Bruce presses his lips together, and he sighs, as if his words should have explained everything. As if they explained the plan he’d gone over a hundred times in his own head. Dick knows he has figured it all out. It is Bruce's way of thinking. He has watched it happen a hundred times. He has learned to translate to read between the lines. But today he needs every word. 

“Bruce?” 

“You love him so much too.” Bruce says, “You need him as much as he needs you.” 

He reaches a hand out and cups Dick’s cheek, “I love you. I don’t say that enough.”

Dick stares at him. His words are lost. Once a fountain now dry marble. Something warm has replaced the worry and pain in his chest. It hits him, how much a son he is to Bruce as Damian is to him. It is so easy to forget, under the weight of life and responsibilities. Through the grind that is time and distance. Past the old fights and the new chasm. 

Now Bruce looks at him as gentle and loving as he just looked at Damian, “I love you both, and I want you two to be happy, you know that right?”

He knows that. Dick is fully aware of his father’s love, even if it is rarely voiced so specifically. But it is so nice to actually hear the words. Like water on a drooping plant. 

“Dick? Chum?” Bruce prompts. 

“What are you saying?” Dick asks again, the words so quiet they scrape across his throat. 

Bruce leans forward, ever so careful so he doesn’t wake Damian. He presses a kiss to Dick’s forehead and murmurs, his voice warm against Dick’s skin, “I’ve been thinking.” 

“We need to change how we’re doing this. Share time, maybe he stays with you for a week and me for one. I won’t ask you to move back in.” Bruce leans back watching Dick, he still hold’s Dick’s cheek, like a lifeline. 

“I’ve got papers, they’ll make you legally his guardian again. All the same rights I have.” 

Bruce becomes the fountain that Dick is not. His words wash over him, explaining different suggestions for how Damian can split his time, that Dick can have his life in Bludhaven, that Bruce can also be a dad to Damian. He explains that they need to make sure Damian can’t just run from one to the other for permission for things. That expectations should be similar from one house to another. 

“And Damian?” Dick interrupts, “Have you asked him, to see if he even wants to split his time like that?” 

Dick does not say  _ ‘if he even wants to live with me again’ _ or  _ ‘if he only wants to stay with one of us.’ _ . It does not need to be said. 

“I wanted to ask you first.” Bruce tells him, “I didn't want to put any pressure on you you don’t want, and talk out any problems I might have missed.” 

Bruce’s thumb brushes Dick’s cheek, “This is as much for you as it is for him. I told you, you two need each other, son.” 

Tears prick behind Dick’s eyes at last. Somehow he has forgotten what it was like to be considered. He will do anything for Damian, for his whole family. He has, for years, given so much of himself to everyone, and so rarely does anyone ask him first. He is happy to give. Happy to pour himself out so that the people he loves so much can flourish. 

“What do you say? Think we can be co-parents?” 

Of course Damian will say yes. Of course there will be problems. Of course Dick and Bruce are going to butt heads and that strange chasm of who should take precedence will always be there (even if it is both, even if it is neither, even if that is Damian’s say every time). 

“Of course.” Dick says, reaching a hand up to take Bruce’s again and squeeze it tight. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is so wildly self indulgent for a number of reasons 1. I'm writing in a different tense than I do 2. I'm trying a different voice and 3. I just want Bruce and Dick to be Damian's dads and this is my soft version of how that happens. 
> 
> If you liked any of that, I'd love to hear about it. Thank you for sticking with this experiment.


End file.
